


Teamwork makes the dream work

by Multifandom_damnation



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Affectionate Insults, Bickering, Cooking, Gen, Hobbit Culture & Customs, Missing Scene, Stubborn Dwarves, Team as Family, Teamwork, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:07:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26301673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Multifandom_damnation/pseuds/Multifandom_damnation
Summary: Hobbit's are a hard-working folk, so when Bilbo realizes that he hasn't actually done anything on their journey, he decides that it's about time he stepped up to the plate.
Relationships: Bilbo Baggins & Thorin's Company
Comments: 6
Kudos: 118





	Teamwork makes the dream work

They watched with bated breath as Kili gently drew his blade across the wood in his hand, clutched softly yet securely between his nimble fingers, sure that this would be the one to do it until- _snap!_

The twig snapped in half right down the middle and Kili narrowly avoided slicing into his own wrist with the knife. He clenched his hands into fists, pursed his lips so tightly that the surrounding skin turned white, and blew a harsh breath our through his nose before dropping his hands back to his lap and lowering his head with a heavy sigh. Fili placed a hand on his back with a small smile. The other onlookers groaned in defeat. "Again?" Ori asked, taking his nose out of his book.

"What?" Kili complained. "It's not my fault that I used the last of my arrows during that previous battle, and all of the sticks here are too wrong. Too wet or too brittle too long and such."

"You didn't _have_ to use all your arrows, you know," Dori pointed out.

While Kili pouted, Fili laughed and placed a hand on the top of his head. "We learned long ago not to question Thorin when he gives an order, no matter how ridiculous it sounds."

"Even when he can't actually see what he's telling us to hit," Kili said as he swatted his brother's hands away.

Gandalf rested against the thick trunk of a tree, blowing smoke rings with his pipe. Bilbo sat beside him, watching silently. Gandalf elbowed him in the side and rolled his eyes. "Dwarves."

There was a commotion from the woods and the familiar sound of dwarven complaining as the other members of their company returned from their hunting expedition, dragging their catch between them. "You better not be complaining," Dwalin growled, blood splattered across his front.

"Oi!" Oin complained from his place on the floor as the newcomers kicked up his small fire with their arrival. "It took me ages to find enough dry kindling to get this blasted thing started, so if it dies down on account of your big feet-"

"Blah blah, stop your whining," Bofur said as he collapsed in a heap beside him. "You built a little fire, big deal."

Exhausted, the hunting party deposed their meal in the middle of the group. "Took us forever to catch that thing," Gloin muttered, sending a pointed look at Kili.

Frustrated, Kili threw his arms up in the air. "I'm out of arrows!"

"So you said," Balin replied as he stepped over their prey to join his brother on the other side of the clearing. 

At first look, it seemed like a stag, its brown fur matted with its own blood and it's big eyes glassy and unseeing. But it was too small to be a stag, its antlers too brittle, and they soon realized on closer examination that it was an elk, large enough and fat enough to easily feed them all.

Thorin found an elevated place upon a rock, looking down at the rest of his company, leaning against a tree as he sheathed his sword. "So," he announced, breaking the silence and knowing that his comment was about to elicit and uproar. "Who is in charge of supper this evening?"

There was a tense pause. Thorin mentally prepared himself. 

"Not me," Bofur announced. "I helped catch the damn thing, I'm not going to cook it too."

"We did all the work," Nori agreed. "The ones who sat here waiting for their meals to be served to them on a silver platter should be the ones to do it."

Oin scoffed. "I built the fire!"

"And I supervised!" Dori argued. 

Fili exchanged a look with his brother, more focused on whittling arrows than he was on the discussion, and shrugged. "I suppose Kii and I could do it."

"Absolutely not," Dwalin warned. "You two cook as well as you sing!"

Kili glanced up then, offended, and narrowed his eyes at Dwalin. "At least we sing better than you smell!" he retorted. 

It was a surprise to no one that Dwalin stood from his stump to turn on Kili, who was already cackling with his head thrown back and a hand over his belly, some of the others standing up to hold him back while also arguing back with their own retort. 

Through it all, Bilbo sat there at Gandalf's side, watching the argument unfold. Thorn looked exhausted, head in his hands, a pained expression on his face. It didn't seem like the issue was going to be solved anytime soon, and he suspected that night would have fallen and their meal would have been sitting out too long to eat and they would instantly end up eating rations for dinner again by the time they decided. 

But dimly, he realized that their argument was valid. There were ones who fought the battles and hunters for food and prepared their meals. Though there was thirteen of them, they all had jobs to do and they did them well. It was no wonder that they would want a break for once. 

Bilbo was suddenly keenly aware that he hadn't really _done_ anything for the group. He was the burglar, but he hadn't actually stolen anything yet. Hobbit's were a proudly hard-working folk who had no qualms bout getting their hands dirty, and he decided that it was long past time that he finally pulled his weight. 

Grunting, Bilbo heaved himself up from beside Gandalf on the fallen log they had claimed for themselves and stuck his thumbs in his pockets. "Right, then," when Bilbo cleared his throat, the group fell silent to look at him. He nodded towards the elk waiting on the ground. "Does one of you know how to skin that thing?"

That earned him many confused, suspicious glances. "Aye..." Balin said slowly. 

"And someone can put a pot on to boil?" Bilbo continued. 

"Aye, I can do that," Bofur said. "Why do you ask?"

Shrugging, Bilbo stepped off the log and walked further into the woods. "Just make sure it's all ready for when I get back."

They shouted after him, warning him to be careful and not to go without aid, but Bilbo ignored them. He began to focus his time and efforts on a much different kind of hunt. 

He collected the lush hers that grew from the base of the trees, mint and chive and such. He went through the bushes and the lowest limbs of trees to find the fruits and berries that he knew from experience were safe to eat, non-toxic and perfect to add to a savoury meal. He found precious potatoes and mushrooms, many different kinds with wonderous flavours, all of which he thankfully recognised. He snacked on a few small ones on his way back to the campsite just to keep himself occupied. 

When Bilbo returned to where the dwarves were waiting, the fire was glowing brighter and higher, a pot was boiling over the fire, the elk was cut into perfect portions. The dwarves sat around the fire, smoking their pipes and singing their songs. Kili had finally managed to fletch a few arrows.

"Here is our hobbit," Gandalf announced with a laugh as Bilbo entered the circle of light from the campfire.

Thorin lowered his pipe to peer at Bilbo over the top of the bowl. "We were beginning to suspect that you had been eaten by some beast out there in the woods."

"Not quite," Bilbo sat as he stepped overstretched legs and manoeuvered around lazing dwarves. "Good to see that you've finally managed to fashion yourself a few arrows there, Kili," Bilbo placed a hand on the young dwarf's shoulder. Kili blushed. "Now, one of you wouldn't happen to have a blade that I could borrow, would you? Preferably one my size."

There was a short pause as the dwarves patted themselves down and looked in all their pockets and holsters for a what was requested until Fili produced a small dagger from a hidden compartment of his gauntlet. "Here," he offered it to Bilbo hilt first. "You may use this one if it suits."

"Ah, perfect," Bilbo said as he took it gingerly from him. 

"What do you need it for?" Bofur asked with a frown as he watched Bilbo lower his satchel and began unpacking his newly collected ingredients. 

Kneeling, Bilbo took the appropriate tools from the dwarves belongings. "I'm making supper, of course."

Methodically, Biblo sliced the mushrooms and potatoes and placed them in the boiling water. He mushed the berries in a mortar and pestle. He cooked the elk over the open flame. It was so calming and so familiar to him in its simplicity that it reminded him sweetly of him. Bag End seemed not so far away, suddenly.

Intrigued, the dwarves stopped what they were doing to each him. "You're awfully good at that," Kili observed as he peered over his shoulder.

"I'm a hobbit," Bilbo said simply. 

The dwarves exchanged glances. "What's that supposed to mean?" Ori was the one who found the courage to ask the question.

Bilbo paused his cleaning of the herbs to think about the question. "Well, us hobbit's tend to be a rather homely folk. We're not elves, with their wisdom and their timeless beauty and their grace, or dwarves with their architecture and their armeis and their treasure. We value other things. Simpler things. We like our homes, our gardens, and our books. We spend a lot of time in our homes, and it's very rare for a hobbit to leave the Shire. I spend a lot of time cooking, and I like to think that I am quite good at it. So, to answer your question, I am a hobbit, and I take pride in what I do, even cooking dinner for thirteen dwarves and a wizard."

Nobody knew what to say, so they didn't say anything, and just sat back and watched him methodically going through the motions of preparing their dinner, humming quietly under his breath, a jolly tune that could only have come from someplace like the Shire. 

Eventually, Thorin was the one who broke the peaceful silence. "We thank you, for going through all this trouble."

"It's not a worry at all. It's common for hobbits to cook for large crowds. They throw enough parties. Not me, of course. I like my peace and quiet," Bilbo said as he began plating up the food and handing it out. "Besides, I'm a part of this team now, too. I'm not averse to some hard work, and I think we should all pull our weight. You're the ones who do all the hard work around here while I sit back and reap the benefits. That's not what we hobbits do. I don't mind helping where I can."

The dwarves bowed in thanks as they took their warm, freshly-cooked meals in the small wooden bowls, not willing to admit just how much that statement meant to them or how wonderful the meal tasted, especially considering the dwarves didn't actually have to do anything.

"Well then," Gandalf smiled. "Three cheers for Master Baggins, our burglar and cook."


End file.
